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| Parents Who are these Aliens? Is it true you marry your Father? Help! I think I'm becoming my Mother! |
| Heal your Heart - Love your Body - Live your Joy! Simply Stunning! A beautiful and profound healing experience 3 guided meditations on one CD. Access higher wisdom, intuition and insights. Change habits, release fears and activate healing energies. Buy Now Full description. Read what others say |
Some people look back on their childhood as, ‘The best years of their lives’. I, on
the other hand, hated being a child because I always felt caged and restrained.
I disliked having to ask for things. I especially disliked being told “No!” without a
logical or fair reason. I hated being told what to wear, when to come home or
where I could go. When I was very young I hated not being able to reach things.
I really hated sitting in the back seat of the car being told to “Sit still and shut
up!” When visitors came we were sent outside to play. We were usually sent to
bed when we weren’t ready or tired.
One of my earliest childhood memories has me standing at the gate with my
mother’s voice calling from the house, “Sonya, don’t you leave the yard will
you?” I was about three years old and I was wondering why I couldn’t go out of
the gate.
My father and my big brother left every day. They both got to go out of the gate,
but I wasn’t allowed to. People walked past, stopped, said hello and continued
on. Everyone in the world seemed to be outside the gate except me. I just knew
that exciting things happened out there.
I had heard my father talk about work and my brother talk about school. I had
seen ladies pushing prams and carrying home shopping. I had been warned that
bad things happen out there and, that someone might steal me if I went out there.
I guess that I had been told that I would get lost and not know how to get home,
that cars might run over me, and that dogs might bite me. I don’t know how I
knew this, but I seemed to know it. I also knew that I believed that it was a lie.
One day I did go out. I noticed that the neighbour’s fence led to a gate on the
other side of their yard. I felt certain that if I kept my hand on the fence I could
walk as far as the gate at the far side without getting lost. I played it over in my
mind until I was sure that it was a good plan. It worked! I went all the way to
the other side, turned around, and with my fingers lightly touching the fence
palings, I made my way back.
I think that this memory has stayed with me all of these years as it was probably
one of the most significant days of my life. For me, it was the day that I
discovered that I was my own little entity. I discovered the ‘Nature of the Beast’
that I was to become. I had discovered freedom of choice and independence. It
was probably also the day that my parents’ nightmares began.
My father used to refer to me as, “A bugger of a child”. I couldn’t wait to get to
school, yet by the third year I was pulled into the headmaster’s office for
truancy. I had my little sister and an older friend with me when we were caught.
My mother was embarrassed that my sister, who was only six, was labelled the
youngest kid to ever wag school. Not only did that embarrass her, but she learned
that we were all sitting at my friend’s house with our faces covered in make-up,
wearing high-heeled shoes and smoking cigarettes.
By the time I reached high school, I had had enough. The teachers considered me
to be something of a delinquent and I thought that they were ‘screwing with my
mind’. I had a smart mouth, a bad attitude and I was headed for trouble.
My parents later confided that they thought that I would give them a nervous
breakdown. Honestly, I was a bugger of a kid, I was head strong and rebellious. I
challenged all forms of authority and I just would not allow people, regardless of
rank, to control me.
I used to lie in bed at night and say to my sister, “Who are these people?”
referring to our parents. My sister was my kindred spirit and I could tell her
anything however, my parents were a ‘Whole different kettle of fish’. We
decided that we had been adopted at birth and for the time being we would just
have to accept these ‘Aliens’ that we lived with.
I spent most of my adolescence screaming, “I just want to be free!” I often ran
away from home until the legal age of sixteen when I finally packed my bags for
the last time and left.
My father was scared and the more fear he had the more controlling he became.
The more controlling he became the more rebellious and outrageous I became.
My father believed effective parenting required discipline. His idea of discipline
was to belt me with a strap. He would yell so loudly and angrily that the veins
around his temples stood out, his face became bright red and his eyes looked like
those of a wild animal.
I learned not to cry. Later I learned how to scream back and hit back. For many
years we were at war.
My father was not a bad guy. He was charming, gentle, talented and a lot of fun.
He did not drink, smoke or womanise. Most of the time, he was a really likable
person. I was not blameless either. I certainly provoked him and definitely
required some guidance. My father had a huge problem with fear and stress that
manifested itself as violence. For many years I felt confused about this
relationship, as it was both loving and violent.
A father-daughter relationship is extremely dynamic. It seems common and
understandable that many women marry men similar to their fathers. It turned out
to be very fortunate for me that I was rebellious, as I was able to move on
without any permanent damage. Neither my sister nor I have ever been in violent
relationships and we’ve never hit our children.
Miraculously I made it through childhood alive and intact. Adulthood suited me so
much better. Once I had my independence I managed to level out. I had raced
through my childhood trying to be older than I was. But as we all learn when we
get there, ‘Adulthood requires maturity and experience’. You really can’t just
jump there.
Over the years, we re-grouped and became a close-knit family. Ironically, my
father and I had a lot in common when the playing field was level. By the time he
was forty; he gave up his stressed-out lifestyle, and bought a farm on the North
Coast. He found part-time work as a musician, joined a church, remarried, and
had a new family. In short, ‘He chilled out and reinvented himself’.
Most of the time we all got along fine, but on occasion something would come up
and a button would be pushed. Many, many times I confronted my father and
demanded answers or apologies about something that I remembered. I often
brought up instances from my teen-age years and with my articulate, sword-like
tongue, I would slash him to pieces.
He would be mortified and deeply wounded. We went on like this for a few years
as we, ‘Work-shopped our relationship’. The day did come when we had
processed everything and simply accepted that, “We all did the best we could,
and with the limited knowledge that we had, in the time frame in which we lived”.
Or, as Oprah Winfrey often quotes, “If we had known better, we would have
done better".
Click Next Button to Cont...
the other hand, hated being a child because I always felt caged and restrained.
I disliked having to ask for things. I especially disliked being told “No!” without a
logical or fair reason. I hated being told what to wear, when to come home or
where I could go. When I was very young I hated not being able to reach things.
I really hated sitting in the back seat of the car being told to “Sit still and shut
up!” When visitors came we were sent outside to play. We were usually sent to
bed when we weren’t ready or tired.
One of my earliest childhood memories has me standing at the gate with my
mother’s voice calling from the house, “Sonya, don’t you leave the yard will
you?” I was about three years old and I was wondering why I couldn’t go out of
the gate.
My father and my big brother left every day. They both got to go out of the gate,
but I wasn’t allowed to. People walked past, stopped, said hello and continued
on. Everyone in the world seemed to be outside the gate except me. I just knew
that exciting things happened out there.
I had heard my father talk about work and my brother talk about school. I had
seen ladies pushing prams and carrying home shopping. I had been warned that
bad things happen out there and, that someone might steal me if I went out there.
I guess that I had been told that I would get lost and not know how to get home,
that cars might run over me, and that dogs might bite me. I don’t know how I
knew this, but I seemed to know it. I also knew that I believed that it was a lie.
One day I did go out. I noticed that the neighbour’s fence led to a gate on the
other side of their yard. I felt certain that if I kept my hand on the fence I could
walk as far as the gate at the far side without getting lost. I played it over in my
mind until I was sure that it was a good plan. It worked! I went all the way to
the other side, turned around, and with my fingers lightly touching the fence
palings, I made my way back.
I think that this memory has stayed with me all of these years as it was probably
one of the most significant days of my life. For me, it was the day that I
discovered that I was my own little entity. I discovered the ‘Nature of the Beast’
that I was to become. I had discovered freedom of choice and independence. It
was probably also the day that my parents’ nightmares began.
My father used to refer to me as, “A bugger of a child”. I couldn’t wait to get to
school, yet by the third year I was pulled into the headmaster’s office for
truancy. I had my little sister and an older friend with me when we were caught.
My mother was embarrassed that my sister, who was only six, was labelled the
youngest kid to ever wag school. Not only did that embarrass her, but she learned
that we were all sitting at my friend’s house with our faces covered in make-up,
wearing high-heeled shoes and smoking cigarettes.
By the time I reached high school, I had had enough. The teachers considered me
to be something of a delinquent and I thought that they were ‘screwing with my
mind’. I had a smart mouth, a bad attitude and I was headed for trouble.
My parents later confided that they thought that I would give them a nervous
breakdown. Honestly, I was a bugger of a kid, I was head strong and rebellious. I
challenged all forms of authority and I just would not allow people, regardless of
rank, to control me.
I used to lie in bed at night and say to my sister, “Who are these people?”
referring to our parents. My sister was my kindred spirit and I could tell her
anything however, my parents were a ‘Whole different kettle of fish’. We
decided that we had been adopted at birth and for the time being we would just
have to accept these ‘Aliens’ that we lived with.
I spent most of my adolescence screaming, “I just want to be free!” I often ran
away from home until the legal age of sixteen when I finally packed my bags for
the last time and left.
My father was scared and the more fear he had the more controlling he became.
The more controlling he became the more rebellious and outrageous I became.
My father believed effective parenting required discipline. His idea of discipline
was to belt me with a strap. He would yell so loudly and angrily that the veins
around his temples stood out, his face became bright red and his eyes looked like
those of a wild animal.
I learned not to cry. Later I learned how to scream back and hit back. For many
years we were at war.
My father was not a bad guy. He was charming, gentle, talented and a lot of fun.
He did not drink, smoke or womanise. Most of the time, he was a really likable
person. I was not blameless either. I certainly provoked him and definitely
required some guidance. My father had a huge problem with fear and stress that
manifested itself as violence. For many years I felt confused about this
relationship, as it was both loving and violent.
A father-daughter relationship is extremely dynamic. It seems common and
understandable that many women marry men similar to their fathers. It turned out
to be very fortunate for me that I was rebellious, as I was able to move on
without any permanent damage. Neither my sister nor I have ever been in violent
relationships and we’ve never hit our children.
Miraculously I made it through childhood alive and intact. Adulthood suited me so
much better. Once I had my independence I managed to level out. I had raced
through my childhood trying to be older than I was. But as we all learn when we
get there, ‘Adulthood requires maturity and experience’. You really can’t just
jump there.
Over the years, we re-grouped and became a close-knit family. Ironically, my
father and I had a lot in common when the playing field was level. By the time he
was forty; he gave up his stressed-out lifestyle, and bought a farm on the North
Coast. He found part-time work as a musician, joined a church, remarried, and
had a new family. In short, ‘He chilled out and reinvented himself’.
Most of the time we all got along fine, but on occasion something would come up
and a button would be pushed. Many, many times I confronted my father and
demanded answers or apologies about something that I remembered. I often
brought up instances from my teen-age years and with my articulate, sword-like
tongue, I would slash him to pieces.
He would be mortified and deeply wounded. We went on like this for a few years
as we, ‘Work-shopped our relationship’. The day did come when we had
processed everything and simply accepted that, “We all did the best we could,
and with the limited knowledge that we had, in the time frame in which we lived”.
Or, as Oprah Winfrey often quotes, “If we had known better, we would have
done better".
Click Next Button to Cont...
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